Welcome to the land of Zorthria. It has been over four thousand years since the bombs dropped and wiped out the world before it. Society has now gotten to a medieval class structure however with much, much better technology. It has been two thousand years since the first mutated animals had begun to spring intelligence and over one thousand years since they mastered the equipment and research from thousands of years ago. Today, the land lays in troubled times, society has reached its stagnation point and little progression is occurring, it is as if something is dark and foreboding the light times in the region. Well, it has been over a century since the last war, it had been over two hundred years since the unification of all lands into a singular regal government.
The king sits mighty upon his throne, the drake grumbling about the peasantry and their squabbles with his taxes. He stands to look out the window and then "Hurk", a sharded arrow hits his chest. It beaks upon impact leaving just the tip within his scales. He laughs, "Is that all you.......g...o.t", he stumbled forwards and caught himself upon the balcony. Then groaned as streaks of blue began to lace throughout his body. He grasped at the shard before simply stumbling over the edge. He fell to the ground, hard, the splatter of his brains and blood coating the stone cobbles beneath the palace walls. My my.....what have we here? Have the rebels finally ended a tyrant? Has a brave and noble king been slain or are you just a peasant boy looking on as the events of the coming days unfold.